and three makes one
by avecbliss
Summary: When Soul was sixteen, he made one stupid mistake that changed the course of his life forever. Six years later, he develops an unfortunate crush on his daughter's camp counselor.


Is it bad that he wants to kill his own daughter?

Not literally, of course. That would probably be unacceptable. Plus, despite how much of a brat she's being this morning, Ella is without a doubt the highlight of Soul's sorry excuse for an existence—and how can he possibly want to do her any harm when she has a face like she does? He was dealt an unfortunate hand when God made her so damn adorable.

She's never going to hear the word "no" her entire life.

"Ella," Soul snaps irritably. "We do not have time for this."

His dangerously cute five-year-old looks up from her book, widening her already huge red eyes even more. "But Daddy," she says, sounding completely heartbroken, "I'm just getting to the good part!"

He mentally slaps his forehead with the palm of his hand. This would be a lot easier if she was addicted to television or a game or a cell phone or something like that. Unfortunately, he hasn't been able to afford those luxuries since Ella was born so she has somehow found her way to books.

It wasn't even intentional propaganda on a parent's part. It just happened because Soul works until four during the weekdays which means he can't pick Ella up right away. Thankfully, people tend to always be willing to lend a hand to single fathers—especially one as young as he is to a kid as adorable as his daughter—and they developed a system where the mother of one of Ella's classmates walks Ella to the public library next door after school, and the assistant librarian then lets Ella sit in on her afterschool book club for sixth graders.

None of them expected his girl to take interest in any of those books at her age, but before he knew it, Ella was begging for English tutors at school and started bringing home library books that didn't have any pictures in them.

"You can read when you get home," he promises her. "I have to drive you to the daycare center now or I'll be late for work."

"Can't I just stay home?" she begs. "I'm almost six; I'm old enough to stay home by myself. I won't put forks in the microwave, I won't invite friends over to party and wreck the house, and I won't open the door for strangers. I promise."

A smile fights its way to the surface and Soul struggles to hide it as he crouches down so they're at eye-level. "You know I can't leave you at home by yourself, sweetheart. It's not legal, and it's not safe. Besides, I wouldn't be able to concentrate at work knowing that my girl is at home all alone."

"That's your problem, not mine, Daddy. I could concentrate just fine."

This time he can't suppress his grin. It disappears quickly when he speaks again, softer this time. "I know you don't want to go to the daycare center, but there's no one else who can watch you today."

They'd gotten lucky before in terms of people to watch Ella when he had to work. This, she knows.

"I can't be late to work again," he adds, when she still doesn't budge. "My bosses are still sniffing around me after I took that week off to take care of you when you had the flu last month. And you know I need this job, Ella-girl. We can't stay here without it."

With that, Ella's shoulders slump with defeat and Soul's heart cracks in his chest. It was a low blow and he knows it, but it isn't far from the truth. They really are struggling. Supporting two people is hard when the only person working barely has a high school diploma.

Soul had just turned sixteen when he found out he was going to be a father, and even though his grandmother dropped everything to help out when his parents disowned him, he knew they didn't have enough money as they were to support another person.

His grandmother was a florist; Soul was a mediocre student. Only one of those things could change.

When his grandmother died just a few years later, he was glad he'd dropped out of school to work from the beginning. There was no way he and Ella would've survived that loss without the miniscule amount of savings he'd made while his grandmother raised his daughter in his painful yet mandatory absence.

His GED was pointless. Nowadays, if you don't have a post-secondary degree, you're pretty much fucked in the career department. He worked three shitty jobs at least twelve hours every day for the first three years while his grandmother took care of his daughter. When his gran died, Ella was old enough to qualify for preschool. Their neighbor and family friend, Maba, watched Ella after school and late at night while he worked, free of charge, until Maba and her husband retired to Florida.

It was a miracle he landed a job with day hours this year, just in time for Ella to start first grade. Everything else he worked when she was an infant were during evenings and nights, which meant he missed most of her "firsts" to fatigue and daytime naps between long shifts.

He's not going to lose this job and more hours with his daughter just because she's reading a good book.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispers to her, truly apologetic. She's his whole world and yet no matter how much he tries, he can't give her everything. No one can understand how much that kills him.

She gives him a weak smile. "It's okay, Daddy. I know you work really hard." Then, after a moment, she asks shyly, "Can I bring my book with me?"

He exhales a deep sigh of relief and gives her a fierce kiss on the top of her head. "Yes. Of course. Anything you want."

* * *

According to his phone's GPS—courtesy of his semi-fancy new job—the Death Child Recreation Center is only a ten minute drive from their house, but he wouldn't have been able to miss it even if he didn't have his work phone giving him play-by-play directions to the massive building.

It's probably bigger than her actual public school. The thing is built more like an official recreation building rather than one designed specifically for children and day camps. Two of the walls in the front are composed completely of reflective glass panes, and there's a gorgeous playground in the back that looks like it has never even been touched before.

If this is what an official child recreation building is like, these kids must be playing like royalty.

This is the place that all the other parents in Ella's class use for their privileged kids, but despite their recommendations, Soul has never needed it before. Usually on weekends when he's working or on PA days where Ella's school is cancelled, other parents are happy to take his girl in. He know he's lucky when everyone tells him what a dream his kid is; she never complains, always does what she's told, and prefers to read over watching copious amounts of television. Every parent's fantasy, right?

Except the reason she's _used_ to being so well-behaved is much less like a fantasy and more like a nightmare.

Thanks to the help of those other parents, Ella has always had a place to go when Soul can't take care of her. But now, in first grade, she's at the age where she has to watch all her friends do extracurricular activities and sports that he can't afford. And that means less people that are available to watch her on days off because their own kids are so busy with their extracurriculars that Ella can no longer tag along without seeming like a beggar.

Luckily, Soul's application for government-funded child care has finally been accepted, so he can enroll Ella in legitimate daycare and babysitting services where he pays the caretakers in more than carpool rides to school. At first he was going to put her in a regular day care center, but since the government is paying for the services, Soul decided he might as well go all out and enroll her at the DCRC where she'll get more experiences he otherwise wouldn't be able to afford.

"Daddy," Ella whispers from her car seat in the back as he parks the car, "this doesn't look right. There's no way we can afford this. We have to go back."

Soul's chest tightens at her reaction to such grandeur. It fucking sucks. He knows he can't really afford the kinds of privileges other kids her age seem to be used to, but he likes to believe he gives her everything she needs. She has always been grateful and rarely asks for anything but the necessities. She even acts like he's a superhero every time he brings home her favorite Chinese takeout instead of attempting to fuck up some stir fry recipe he got off the internet.

Moments like these remind him how lucky he is to have a daughter like her and how _unlucky_ she is to have a father as incompetent as him.

Shutting off the car and climbing out of the front, he opens the door on her side and begins unfastening her car seat. "Don't worry about that, okay? If I can't be with you on another one of your days off, you better be damn sure I'm only going to leave my daughter with the best."

Crimson eyes wide, she lets him lift her out of her seat—something she rarely does anymore now that she's reaching that "I can do it myself" independent phase. She nibbles gently on her bottom lip for another moment before she whispers, "It's really big, Daddy. I'm scared."

"They'll love you," he assures her, knowing it's nothing but the truth. "Come on."

The inside of the overly extravagant rec center is as gorgeous as the outside. When they approach the front reception desk, the purple-haired woman behind it smiles way too brightly at him and exclaims, "Welcome to the Death Child Recreation Center, where we hope to make every kid's experience away from home a good one! My name is Blair. How can I help you?"

Soul can practically feel Ella cringe beside him, and he forces on his own smile as the grown-up. "I'm Soul Evans and this is my daughter, Ella. I signed her up for the School's Out Day Camp last week and this is her first day."

At that news, Blair starts to coo at his daughter. "Ooh, so this is your first day, sweetie? You're going to love it! We have the best child-specified recreation program in the country and we are the first to be equally accessible by lower and middle class families. I have no doubt you'll find something you love to do, whether it's rock-climbing, swimming, or even painting!"

_Yes, we read all of that in the brochure, thank you. No need to advertise your "extensive variety of activities" to us when we've already told you we signed up_. He coughs to hide his urge to respond rudely. "Her name is Ella Evans. Can you tell me where she can be dropped off?"

"Of course," Blair chirps. She types a few buttons loudly on the computer keyboard in front of her and beams at them. "I just paged the counselor assigned to take sweet Ella here on the tour. It is mandatory on the first day that each camper stays with one counselor who will ensure that the child will get the most out of the experience, and also to help the child feel more comfortable on his or her first day. On every visit after that, Ella will be allowed to help cater her schedule to her own interests as long as it is signed off by any of the counselors. It does not have to be the one who gave her the tour on the first day."

"Wow, you really memorized that speech," Ella mutters under her breath. He tightens his grip on her hand, but from the way Blair keeps babbling happily on, it's obvious she didn't hear her.

"Today is a good day to start! We've got a pretty busy schedule and—oh!" Blair exclaims, waving to someone who appears from the hallway to the left of the reception desk. "Here comes your counselor!"

"Blair, don't scare the new kid with your excessive enthusiasm this early in the morning," says the new girl with mirth in her voice. "They've already signed up for the camp. You don't need to act like a telemarketer or an infomercial."

"I just want her to feel welcome," Blair mumbles, almost dejectedly, her face falling.

The new girl pats her sympathetically on the back. "Your version of _welcome_ just happens to be a little closer to a normal person's version of _scary_. It's not your fault though, Blair. You're happy. It's cute to people who actually know you and aren't meeting you for the first time behind this desk."

Unlike Blair the receptionist—who is dressed in a perfectly ironed uniform akin to a flight attendant—the new girl is dressed casually in a pair of black jeans and a baby blue t-shirt with the DCRC logo printed across the chest. Her pale blond hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail, a few loose strands falling out of the elastic to frame a perfect heart-shaped face, and her eyes look entirely too big for her face. Greener than anything he's ever seen.

She's fucking beautiful.

"Hi there," she says to Ella first then lifts her gorgeous eyes to Soul's to let him know she's talking to both of them. "I'm Maka. I promise that Blair is actually a sweetheart who, yes, may be ridiculously cheerful all the time. But as much as she means well and we all love her, I also promise that the rest of us are at a normal level of happy that won't continuously scare your children."

And she's _funny_. God, he wants her. It's been way too long since he's been inside a woman. Constantly working means there's hardly any time leftover to relax, and he would much rather spend those precious few moments with his daughter than with a random chick.

Plus, the one and only time he slept with someone, he ended up a dad, so it's not exactly a high priority on his list.

This girl, however… Maybe it's the fact that she works in a child rec center or he's more starved for affection than he realized, but Soul really wants to ask her to hand his daughter off to one of her coworkers so he can tear those loose clothes off her body and discover every curve underneath.

"I'm Ella Evans," his daughter says adorably, stomping not-so-discreetly on Soul's foot when he apparently stares too long at the pretty counselor to remember to respond to her introduction. "And this is my dad."

Maka smiles genuinely and bends to shake Ella's hand. "It's nice to meet you, Ella." Then she holds her hand out to Soul and he takes it all-too-excitedly, which makes her raise an eyebrow. "You too, Mr. Evans."

"Call me Soul," he tells her immediately. "I'm only twenty-two and I still can't help but cringe every time someone calls me Mr. Evans. It makes me feel like my father."

To her credit, Maka doesn't even bat an eyelash at his age like most people do when they know he has a five-year-old daughter. It's somewhat disappointing, considering a surprised reaction from women like her usually means interest.

He has no idea where this girl stands.

"Soul," she agrees easily. "I promise your daughter is in good hands here at the DCRC. I wouldn't be working here if it wasn't the best."

"Aren't you going to tell me your age too?" he asks before he can stop himself. Her huge green eyes make her seem eons younger than she probably is, so he'd guess early twenties. If that. Hopefully at least legal.

She presses her lips together as if she's holding back a smile. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to ask a woman how old she is?"

"So that's a confirmation that you're a woman and not a girl?" he presses. "As in, you're over eighteen?"

This time Maka can't suppress her grin. She looks to his daughter, tongue in cheek. "Your dad's a little nosy, isn't he?"

Ella nods solemnly. "He asks me how my day went every single day, and if I try to answer with a single word like all my friends answer their parents, he won't let me have dessert until I give him details."

Bursting out laughing, Maka tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and crouches down so she's at eye-level with his adorable little girl. Her smile is already filled with affection but Soul isn't surprised. It's impossible for anyone with ovaries to dislike his daughter. "I like you, Ella," she announces. "I think we're going to be pretty good friends."

Red flushes across Ella's pale cheeks. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Smiling, Maka stands up and offers a hand to his girl, which, surprisingly, she takes without hesitation. To Soul, she declares, "Ella and I are going to head out to start our tour now, so you can rest assured I'll do everything in my power to make sure she has a great time."

"You'll be the one to hand her back to me when I return to pick her up later?" he wants to know.

"Of course," she says. "Reluctantly though. I might want to keep her. She's too adorable."

Soul grins. "She is. And she knows it."

"Bye, Daddy," his girl says to him as if on cue, waving the tiny hand that isn't in Maka's.

"Bye, sweetheart. I'll see you later."

And then, as the two girls walk away and disappear down the hallway that Maka had appeared through, Soul feels the familiar sadness seep in that grips him every time he has to leave knowing he's missing another day with his daughter due to the circumstances he was left in.

_Just a few more years_, he tells himself. _A few more years and this will all be different._


End file.
